


Living Canvas

by mpatientdreamr, pentapus



Category: Books of the Raksura - Martha Wells
Genre: Biting, Cultural Differences, F/M, Frottage, M/M, Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 03:00:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2372018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mpatientdreamr/pseuds/mpatientdreamr, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pentapus/pseuds/pentapus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Delin asks a question that throws Chime into a tailspin and makes Moon think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Living Canvas

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta jessa_anna for helping me wrangle this story into something readable.
> 
> Thanks to pentapus for letting me play in her sandbox as well as the art and the beta.

Moon enjoyed Delin's company more than pretty much any groundling he'd ever met. He even, on occasion, sought him out instead of vice versa. The man wasn't afraid or judgmental, simply curious, and he was as willing to tell stories as he was eager to hear them. He made Moon feel almost normal.

That said, sometimes he blundered onto topics that made the other Raksura squirm.

“I've been wondering,” Delin said, leaning forward. “Your people have some of the most intricate art and jewelry of any I’ve seen, but they don't seem to favor permanent markings. Why is that, do you think?”

Chime choked on his tea and Moon leaned back. That usually meant that something bizarrely Raksuran was afoot and his day had either just gotten more entertaining or confusing. 

“Well,” Chime said, then stopped, cleared his throat, and set his cup aside. “You see, it's kind of- We don't do permanent markings, per se. But we...”

Moon raised an eyebrow as Chime trailed off and he looked at Delin, who had his lips pursed like he was working a puzzle.

“So it's sexual, these markings you do,” Delin finally said, nodding for Chime to continue.

“No,” Chime said and seemed honestly confused, which didn't surprise Moon any. The Raksura were some of the most open minded people he'd come across when it came to things like sex. “But it is...It's something between intimates. And it's an Arbora thing. The Aeriat have never...”

Moon thought for a moment about interceding because Chime seemed so very uncomfortable with the whole conversation, but his interest was piqued and Chime seemed oddly determined to explain, even as he failed to find the words.

Chime took a deep breath and tried again. “There are dyes that can stain the skin for nearly a turn. It was common, before the Aeriat joined the Arbora, for an Arbora breeding pair to use the dyes to sort of...signify their connection. After the Aeriat joined, it became a rare practice and so it shifted in significance. The Raksura don't bind themselves only to one other person, as some people do. But when one Raksura bears the mark of another, it means that there's a bond there that can never be broken. It's a pledge, of sorts.”

“I see,” Delin said, sitting back and scribbling on a sheaf of papers. “And the Aeriat don't...?”

“They aren't the artisans of the Raksura,” Chime pointed out. “Most of them can barely draw stick figures. And it's very rare for an Arbora to offer to mark them because they can't reciprocate.”

“Hmm,” Delin said, lost to his papers.

Moon looked to Chime, who seemed kind of flushed. Delin was too absorbed with the information he'd been presented to remember one key thing: Chime hadn't always been a warrior. He'd started life as an Arbora Mentor, and Moon knew for a fact that painting had been his main artistic discipline.

“I've got to, um, go help Heart,” Chime mumbled, then booked it like his tail was on fire.

Delin looked up at his abrupt exit, blinking owlishly. “Oh, has he been called away?”  
“He had a thing that needed doing,” Moon said, shrugging.

“I see,” Delin said and considering how good he was at reading and interacting with others, he probably did. “You wouldn't per chance know if it's taboo for a given Raksura to give the mark to more than one person, would you?”

“Nope,” Moon said, settling back into his pillows.

“Ah, well,” Delin shrugged. “Have you ever heard of the Iskanieri? Venar-Inram-Alil once encountered them and they had the most unusual method of using fire and rare inks to color their bodies.”

“Really?” Moon settled in for a bit of storytelling.

*** ***  
Napping with Jade after sex was one of Moon's favorite parts of the day. The weight of her against him and the comfort of her presence usually lulled him right to sleep. 

Today, though, his mind was too busy running rings around itself to really rest. Instead, he played with the rings on Jade's fingers as she curled around him.

Finally, she sighed and captured his hand. “If you're going to interrupt our nap, you could at least tell me what's wrong.”

“Nothing's wrong,” he said, honestly enough. He'd had to knock some sense into River, earlier, but that was less wrong than situation normal.

“Right,” she sighed and rolled them until she was braced over him. “Then why don't you tell me what's bothering you.”

“Delin made Chime uncomfortable this morning,” he said, shrugging. “I was just wondering if I was going to have to do something about it.”

Jade raised an eyebrow. “You want to tell Delin to stop making his visits?”

“No!” he said, scowling. Delin's trips to the Reach were something everyone in the colony looked forward to, especially Moon. It was nice having someone to be confused about the intricacies of Raksuran society with. “Of course not. I'm talking about doing something for Chime.”

Jade raised an eyebrow as she settled more of her weight down on top of him. “What, exactly, did Delin make Chime so uncomfortable about?”

“Markings,” he said, pursing his lips.

A smiled played around her lips as she rested her chin on her hands on his chest. “And you want Chime to mark you?”

“I think Chime likes the idea,” Moon said, refusing to feel stupid about all of this.

This was why he preferred broad gestures of affection, like ripping something's head off that was trying to eat someone or punching someone in the face when they were being insulting. That said 'I care' without being a big deal.

“So let him,” she said, shrugging. Moon felt his jaw drop at her easy acceptance. She smiled. “It's usually an Arbora thing, but Chime's a special case and you wouldn't be the first consort to bear markings. And everybody already knows he's your favorite.”

“You're my favorite,” he said, because it was true and he didn't want her to think of Chime as some sort of weird competition.

“He's your favorite that isn't me, then,” she conceded, reaching up to gently trail a clawed finger down his jaw. “And I'll give you clutches and he'll give you markings and we'll live happily ever after.”

He rolled his eyes, focusing on the ceiling. “You're the weirdest Queen. Doesn't he have to ask or whatever?”

“You're weird,” she rebutted, nipping his collarbone. He smiled, just for her. “And, yes, he does, but you can make your interest known. I'm sure if you get him the dyes, he'll get the idea.”

Moon winced. “Where do you get the dyes?”

“Heart will have them,” she said, kissing his chest.

He pulled her up until they were cheek to cheek. “You're my favorite Queen.”

He felt her smile as she petted his hair and let himself slide into sleep.

*** ***  
Heart had raised an eyebrow to see him in the Mentor's rooms, fiddling with vials, but she hadn't asked questions, just helped him find something to match the red he picked out.

He chose a time he knew Chime would be on patrol and set the jars of dye on the steps. He was certain this wasn't the proper protocol, but it was the only way he knew.

He wasn't expecting Chime to burst in while Ember was talking him through the more advanced Raksuran written language, but he probably should have been. All of his small gestures had a way of turning into disastrous affairs.

“What is this?” Chime demanded, flustered, as he shook the jars at them.

Ember looked between them, then stood. “I think I hear Pearl calling for me.”

Moon waited until the kid had gracefully fled his bower before saying, “I wasn't sure you had them.”

Chime choked on nothing, flailing a bit. “I can't just- Moon, you're First Consort. Jade would kill me.”

“Jade told me to do it,” he said, a little baffled. Jade had never, to his knowledge, been aggressive with Chime over Moon's affections. “I mean, she said I had to let you ask, but she said it was okay if you wanted to.”

Chime gaped at him before his shoulders slumped. “This is a big deal for me, you know.”

Moon unfolded himself from his pillow and caught him by the elbow. “I know. I'm sorry, I thought I was making it easier.”

Chime full-body slumped into him, burying his face in his neck. “You did. I'm just scared. I haven't painted since...”

Moon wrapped his arms around him and squeezed. “I don't mind if it's ugly.”

Chime snorted, then nipped at the bend of his neck. “I mind.” He pulled away and ruffled a hand through his hair. “So. Do you...?”

“Yeah,” Moon said with a little smile.

“I forgot my brushes,” Chime said, thrusting the jars into Moon's chest. “I'll be right back.”

Moon shrugged and went about figuring out the best way to get marked. He figured it was a timely endeavor.

Finally, he just sat on his fluffiest pillow, letting his shirt slide off his shoulders. His back had the widest span of skin to play with, even with the scar from his battle with Ranea, the progenitor-queen, and it could be covered if he had to.

He heard a sharp inhale and pressed a smile into his drawn up knees.

“I'm going to need you to be still,” Chime said hoarsely after he'd settled behind him..

Moon nodded, then went still as Chime's hesitant hands slid from his shoulders to his waist, growing bolder as they went. He took a deep breath and counted to 10 in every language he knew. This was going to be a long few hours if he got turned on just from that.

He fell into the slick slide of the brush against his skin, traveling from near the back of his neck to the small of his back in several broad, continuous lines before shorter strokes started filling things in. He couldn't tell what Chime was painting and he didn't want to ask, to break the spell that seemed to have fallen over them. Chime's hands and barest breeze of his breath against his back were hypnotic, until the drag of a damp cloth wiping away the hardened, crusted bits.

Chime eventually leaned his forehead between Moon's shoulder blades and choked, “It's done.”

Moon captured one of the hands that had fallen to his waist, then picked up the brush that was resting in the bright blue dye.

“You don't-” Chime started, tugging at his hand.

“Hush,” he said quietly and carefully drew a waxing moon on the inside of his wrist, blowing on it to dry it faster, then snagging the damp cloth and wiping gently. “That's the best I can do.”

Chime drew a ragged breath. “It's perfect.”

He nipped at Moon's neck and Moon twisted and bore him to the floor, pulling his hands up over his head then letting his gaze drag from his marked up wrist down to his eyes, and whispered, “Look how pretty.”

The kiss that followed was deep and just shy of desperate. Moon realized that for the first time in a turn, he was in too much of a hurry to get his pants down as he clung to Chime's hands and rocked, hard and fast, against him. Chime brought his knees up, pressing the heels of his feet into Moon's ass, pressing him closer. Moon pulled back to bite the bend of Chime's neck, hard, and Chime's whine as he arched and came, sending Moon over the edge.

He collapsed into him and they panted at each other before Moon gathered the strength to roll to the side. The sight of Jade in the doorway watching them avidly made his breathing catch, then whoosh from his lungs.

“How pretty, indeed,” she said hoarsely, then pulled the curtain over the doorway closed behind her before sauntering towards them. “My turn.”

**Author's Note:**

> Art by pentapus.


End file.
